


Saboteurs and Supplies

by Elendiliel



Series: Lightning Strikes [16]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Guerrilla Warfare, Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), Planet Onderon (Star Wars), Post-Order 66 (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29265873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendiliel/pseuds/Elendiliel
Summary: The last few years have not been kind to the planet Onderon and its people. First a Separatist occupation, then a siege, and now Imperial rule. At least they now know how to defend themselves, supported by an assortment of Jedi and renegade clones. As their first steps back into insurgency may reveal, they're going to find that support very useful - in more ways than one.
Series: Lightning Strikes [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087898
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Saboteurs and Supplies

“Where are they?”

Hel’s question, apparently directed to herself, was twofold in its meaning. In one sense, she was waiting for the rest of her section of a multi-pronged attack Onderon’s fledgling freedom fighters were making on various new Imperial installations. While the planet’s own people took the lead, as was right and proper, Hel (short for Helli Abbasa), her clone brothers and four of her new apprentices were scattered among the strike teams. She was assigned to the TIE hangar, along with Fives, while Spark and Zatt (now practically inseparable) played a key role in the assault on the communications centre, Petro and Gungi were helping to raid the supply depot and Echo and Byph were assisting King Dendup in the coordination of this first show of strength against the Empire’s occupation.

Saw Gerrera and his men and women had learned from their campaign against the Separatists. Rather than dive straight in and risk turning their own people against them, they had begun with a message. A holorecording of King Dendup, broadcast from comm units left in strategic positions by Helli’s padawans. Nobody ever suspects children of being up to anything other than harmless mischief. The memory of that broadcast still brought a smile to Hel’s lips even as she grew increasingly concerned about her team. She hadn’t watched the recording being made, wanting to be as surprised as its recipients.

 _My people_ , Dendup had begun, with an inflection that gave the phrase the secondary meaning of _my masters_. That would have been a nice piece of spin, Hel remembered thinking, if it hadn’t been the plain, simple truth. Unlike the usurper Rash or the new Imperial governor, Dendup considered himself the servant of his people, and their will to be tantamount to law. _You all know me, though I regret that I do not know all of you as well as I should like. We have survived a great deal together in recent years. Twice the Separatists brought war to us, once by trickery, once by force. Each time, we endured, with the aid of the Republic. Now the Empire claims to stand in the place of the Republic, to desire nothing more than your safety and wellbeing. They say that I abdicated willingly; that General Tandin, after a lifetime of devoted service, accepted a well-earned retirement. It pains me to have to tell you that these are lies. My honoured friend –_ Dendup had had to pause for a second – _was murdered for questioning the new regime, and I was held captive in my own palace. I would be there still, were it not for a few brave souls who risked life and limb for my sake, and whom I cannot thank enough._ All right, easy there, Hel had thought. The brave souls in question were herself and Petro, and it had been relatively simple with Echo and Spark providing intel from their safe-house and Senator Bonteri supplying a way in.

 _The Empire is not our friend,_ Dendup had continued. _Already some of you will have seen the brutality with which they enforce the desert they call peace. We_ had _peace, before the Separatists came, and we will again when the Empire is gone. I do not ask you to fight, and I will never ask you to risk your lives, but I do ask that you trust me, and trust those who fight on your behalf. My people, we have a hard road ahead of us, and there may seem to be reason to fear both the Empire and its foes. But I know that we are stronger than that fear, stronger than the Imperial forces that seek to inspire it, and we will endure._

The message had had the desired effect. People were starting to defy the Empire, but generally in little ways that could not justifiably be punished. Every day, more of Saw Gerrera’s old freedom fighters and new recruits had joined the resistance. As the negative impact of Imperial occupation began to hit home, they were sorely needed. Fives, Echo and Spark had joined in the training for the shinies (as the clones still called rookies) in concert with Gerrera and the older guerrillas, while Helli began a similar process with her own apprentices, trying to balance the necessities of the situation with the demands of their shared Jedi heritage and ideals. It had been an education and a half all round, accelerated by the Empire’s seemingly random taxes, embargos, regulations and rationing. It wasn’t a response to anything they had done, as far as anyone could tell. Just blind, unthinking cruelty. But it was making life difficult for everyone on Onderon, bar the Imperial hierarchy, and the rebels knew they had to act. While Gerrera and Dendup began to plan this triple strike, with input from the rest of Lightning Squadron, Helli had dispatched two of her padawans, Katooni and Ganodi, on a mission of their own. They were seeking out the notorious pirate Hondo Ohnaka, who – on a good day – liked Katooni, and persuading him to supply what the Empire would not. They had been gone for more than a month, and Helli was starting to worry. That was the other meaning of her question.

Still acting as lookout for Fives, Saw and their team of saboteurs, Hel’s eyes fell on the Imperial symbol emblazoned on the rear doors of the prefabricated hangar, and every muscle on her back tensed for a second. That had been the symbol of the Grand Army of the Republic, not so long ago. Her _brothers_ had worn that symbol. Been _proud_ to wear it. Now, for all of them, it just meant death and suffering. She knew that Fives, Echo and Spark each had the symbol of the old Republic, the stylised star and sunburst, tattooed on their right shoulder blade, as well as an eagle and the number 6025 on the left for their other teammate, killed on their first mission but still flying with them. After Echo’s apparent death, a sound-wave pattern and the number 1409 had been added to Fives’, Spark’s and Torrent’s tattoos, but they had been removed following his return from captivity.

Hel didn’t have any tattoos. She wanted the Jedi symbol to match the Republic one her brothers had, but it would be too much of a giveaway, even in UV-active ink. And marking her fallen comrades would have raised too many eyebrows in the Council. She knew that some of the masters – Mace Windu sprang to mind – had considered her too young, too inexperienced, too unstable to make a good leader, though Master Windu, at least, had come to respect her as Lightning Squadron’s successes mounted up and their casualty figures held steady. But it had been a precarious kind of respect, and any sign of attachment would have jeopardised it and her position, her best chance of doing her duty.

Speaking of duty… Hel’s commlink buzzed on her wrist. “Lightning One, this is Lightning Three. We’re coming out, and need you to get the doors open. Any trouble your side?”

“None at all, other than a tardy team.” She could picture his smile at that. “Opening the doors for you now.” She wandered over to the door controls, keeping up the appearance of someone merely waiting for a late friend despite the lack of watchers, and tapped the keys in an absent-minded fashion, not looking at them. She didn’t need to look, not with the Force guiding her fingers. The doors swept open, and half a dozen men and women almost tumbled through them, Fives and Gerrera bringing up the rear, each encumbered by an unconscious sentry.

“I thought you said the guards would be elsewhere?” Hel’s query as she shut the doors went unanswered. Fives was watching his chrono. “Three… two… one…” Right on cue, an ear-shattering explosion sounded from inside the hangar, the first of many, as a squadron of starfighters was reduced to scrap metal.

By the time the dust had settled, those responsible had split up as agreed and made their separate ways back to base, leaving the sentries in the recovery position outside the hangar. Hel intended to have words with Saw about thorough recons, good distractions and the correct treatment of prisoners. But she didn’t really blame him. Fighting organics is different from fighting droids.

The news from the other teams, when they had regrouped at their old safe-house, was decidedly mixed. The communications tower would be down for several days, Spark estimated, and there was little chance that the repair teams would spot and remove Zatt’s bugging equipment, which would bypass any cypher the Empire tried to use and enable them to send their own messages unnoticed. But the supply depot had been more heavily guarded than anticipated, and the raiders had only secured a few crates of food and rifles, not enough of either, especially the former. From where Helli was standing, any rifles were too many. She was glad that much of the arms warehouse had gone up in smoke as a result of a wild shot by a stormtrooper, and that none of the rebel unit had been seriously hurt. Nobody knew whether any of the Imperial troops had been within the blast radius, something that clearly troubled her apprentices, especially Gungi.

“Well, we’ve had worse days, and better ones,” Echo summarised. “You’ve certainly stirred things up. Internal comms within the palace are going crazy.” Echo still had a tap into the palace security system, left there by Hel on her last visit, and had extended it into the communications network. If the Techno Union could see their “experiment” now… “It’s too bad about the supplies, though. We can cope with the weapons we have, but food is going to be an issue all round.”

As though on cue, Byph, who had been keeping an eye on the long-range scanners, turned to face them, his words nearly tripping over each other in his excitement. Helli was fluent enough in Ithorian to be able to translate for the others despite the speed with which he was relaying his news. “A ship’s approaching. The transponder’s been tampered with – an old smuggler’s and pirate’s trick.” Hondo.

“Heading?” Fives was already on his feet, quickly followed by Gerrera.

Helli translated Byph’s reply again. “Coming in to land just south-east of the city, on the opposite side from all the Imperial installations.”

“That’s good, and the Imps will take a while to respond without their comms tower. But we’d better get out there. Coming, Gerrera? – oh, sorry.” Fives had realised that Saw should be taking charge.

“No, it’s fine, and yes, I’m coming. Master Abbasa, I’d like you along too. If it is Ohnaka, he might be friendlier towards a Jedi. I’ll signal the rest of you when we know what the deal is.” That sounded reasonable. Helli and Fives followed Gerrera as he made his way quickly but unobtrusively towards the ship’s projected landing point, the coordinates of which Byph had supplied. When Helli saw it overhead, she burst out laughing. “I don’t _believe_ it! Where in _blazes_ did he get _that_?”

“Why, what is it?” Gerrera’s knowledge of starships wasn’t quite as extensive as hers.

“It’s only a Republic blockade runner! I don’t want to know how Hondo obtained it, but it explains how he got past all those Star Destroyers in orbit. It’s what those kites were made to do.”

The ship was starting the landing sequence now. As the welcoming committee watched, the cargo ramp was lowered and a familiar figure raced down it, meeting her teacher halfway. Helli scooped Katooni into her arms and held her tightly for as long as she dared. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed the girl. Katooni gave as good as she got.

“Well, isn’t this nice?” Master and padawan broke apart as Hondo Ohnaka strolled towards them. “As ordered, two young Jedi and as many crates of food and weapons as the lovely young ladies could persuade me to bring. Hondo always delivers. I congratulate you, Master Abbasa,” (Helli didn’t bother to point out that she had never achieved the rank of master, and might never do so) “on the courage and tenacity of your apprentices. Now, when do I get paid?”

“Let’s discuss that later.” Saw was clearly struggling to keep a civil tongue in his head. Hondo could have that effect on people. Gerrera dealt with it by activating his commlink and calling for a few of his people to help unload the freighter. Helli knew Byph already had an outline of a plan for how to distribute the provisions where they were most needed, and could easily tailor it to whatever Hondo had brought. That would keep him pretty busy for a while, so Helli would have to deal with the rebels’ covert financial backers herself, or put Senator Bonteri on to it. She’d rather not have to do the latter. The poor man was already playing a dangerous enough game, raising awareness of the true situation on Onderon in the Senate without being thrown out, or worse. She didn’t need to make his life any more complicated.

Ganodi, who, it later turned out, had been Hondo’s co-pilot, emerged while Gerrera was still talking, and received the same effusive welcome as her fellow apprentice. They hadn’t been a family more than a few months, but Helli already knew that they would remain one as long as they lived. An unconventional family, but family nonetheless. And while they were together, in spirit or in body, no blockade, no occupation, stood a chance. Sabotage or supply runs – whatever was needed, they would provide.


End file.
